Not Afraid Anymore
by FireBowser
Summary: Santana receives yet another beating from a group of homophobic bullies, and Brittany gets sick of Santana getting hurt, as well as hiding their relationship. In-progress, possible before/after chapters, depending on reviews.
1. Chapter 1

**This chapter takes place BEFORE the first chapter, just so you all know. Thanks for reading, and I don't claim to own Glee.**

_1:30_ Santana thought to herself. _I'll probably be late to class again. Or, maybe I just won't go. Well, actually, I probably should_. She debated internally. Sigh. She slid across the booth, and stood from her table. The scratched iPhone that previously rested on her right thigh slid off of her lap, and fell to the ground making a sharp _clatter_ noise when it met the floor. She simply sighed again, and stooped over to pick it up. This was a typical occurrence for Santana. She swiped it moodily from the ground, and shoved it roughly into her front pocket. _I hate math_ she thought to herself as she forcefully pushed her notebooks into her already over-filled backpack. She paused mid-grunt, and a smile slowly crept up her face. _Well,_ she thought, _I may not like math, but at least Brit has it with me_. She nodded in approval at this positive thinking, and situated her backpack on her shoulders.

The walk to her math building from the student cafeteria wasn't far. A slanted, concrete walkway connected the entrances to both of the buildings. Santana had made it about halfway down this walkway when she noticed a group of tall, muscular boys that had centered themselves in the middle of the path. They were leering at Santana, arms crossed, and sadistic smiles playing up their cheeks. _Oh no_ thought Santana. _Here we go again_. She had been constantly harassed by this particular group of homophobes ever since they had seen Brittany and Santana together one afternoon. Beatings were just a typical occurrence; Santana knew not to complain, because at least they weren't hitting Brittany.

"Where ya headed, dyke?" sneered the leader of the group, Klyde.

"To a bright, fulfilling future. I know you chose the _other_ path.." retorted Santana, "so, I suppose I will let you get on your way" she finished. Klyde's expression changed from disgust to absolute fury. _Uh oh,_ thought Santana. _Wrong thing to say_. Klyde kicked her roughly behind her ankles, effectively knocking her to the ground. Santana felt her head hit the ground with a rough _crack_. Santana groaned in pain.

"You shouldn't have said that, you stupid gay slut! I guess we are going to have to teach you another lesson" spat Klyde. Santana thought about begging him to let her go, but she knew better than that. The more she screamed and tried to get away, the rougher the beating would get. Klyde delivered a rough kick to her side, as if reminding her that she wouldn't be able to scream for help. He wordlessly held out his hand, making eye contact with the shorter man behind him. The man's face contorted into an evil sneer, and he reached into his bag, retrieving a long, blunt bat. _Oh crap_ she thought. _They found a cop's baton_. Klyde snatched it from his friend, and rolled it between his hands, taunting the latina.

"I don't know if you've ever been chased by a cop, dyke, but these things hurt like hell when they catch up with you" he remarked. He raised the baton above his head, and it was all Santana could do to shield herself before he began raining blow after blow upon her face. He began to grunt and yell at her, but she paid no attention to his words. She could hear his friends laughing and calling in the background, egging him on. Before long, she could taste something metallic that seemed to be coming from both her throat and her nose. Santana couldn't say how long she lay there, shielding herself. It felt like hours. Finally, Klyde retreated, carelessly tossing the bloodied baton back to the short man.

"For your sake, I hope I finally beat the gay out of you. Don't let me catch you with that blonde _whore_ again, or I will kill you" Klyde hissed. The word rang through her throbbing skull, _whore._ He had just called her beautiful, sweet Brittany a whore. Despite the dull aches and pains, Santana was furious. She rolled to her feet and caught Klyde around the throat before his gang had time to react.

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER A WHORE" she screamed furiously. She clawed mercilessly at the exposed flesh around his collar, beginning to draw blood. He howled in pain, spinning madly from left to right, trying to fling the crazed girl off of him.

"GET HER OFF OF ME!" he screamed to his companions. They seemed to be rooted to the spot, horrified by what they were witnessing. A man about the same height as Klyde rushed forward, locking his arms around her neck. She instinctively released her target, attempting to free herself from the other man's grasp. His hands tightened around her neck, holding her two feet from the ground. She flailed and kicked, trying to break free. Her vision began to leave her; darkness edging into her line of sight. She had almost lost consciousness when she felt the pressure around her neck dissipate. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, gasping and choking at as much air as she could inhale. She sputtered and coughed for several minutes, before regaining her composure.

When she finally turned to look around, Klyde and his gang were nowhere to be seen. _Thank God_ thought Santana. She brought a hand up to inspect her face, but flinched at its initial contact. _Great_ she thought. Her face was throbbing, and she could feel the hot, tender skin beginning to bruise. Blood was dripping from her face onto the concrete below, and after attempting a breath through her nose, the _whistle_ noise that occurred confirmed that it was broken. She sighed, and stood to her feet. She lost her balance almost instantly and collapsed onto the ground again. Was her leg broken? She couldn't tell. It hurt so much to stand; she wasn't ready to attempt it again. She glanced down at her watch; _2:25_. _Crap_ she thought. _I'm late_. She sighed, and slowly maneuvered to her feet, wincing as she put weight on her right leg. She knew she would have to go to class eventually, or Brittany would worry. Right on cue, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She reached into her pocket, wiggling her phone out of the snug fit of the fabric. She quickly tapped the password in, and read the text message.

"_**Hey, where are you? Are you okay?" –B**_

Santana quickly typed and sent a response.

_**"Fine, sorry. Got caught up in the library." –S**_

She sighed at how pathetic the lie sounded. But, she realized that Brit would see her eventually, and that there was no hiding what happened. This had happened before, and Brit knew it wasn't going to stop anytime soon, though Santana was sure she had her hopes. Her phone vibrated in her hand before she could fit it back into her pocket.

_**"…the library? San, what's going on? I know you don't study…Lord Tubbington told me." –B**_

Despite how much Santana hated Brittany's enormous, obnoxious cat, she couldn't help but wonder how much of her information Brittany figured out on her own, and how much of it she actually "heard" from the cat. Santana typed another response, trying to brush off Brittany's concern.

_**"I'm about five minutes away from class. See you when I get there :)." –S**_

Santana hoped that the smile would ward off Brittany's suspicions, but her next text didn't make her sound convinced.

_**"I'll see you when you get to class. We WILL be talking later. I love you." –B**_

Santana sighed. She knew her girlfriend better than this; no matter how convincing she could make her lies sound to other people, Brittany could always see right through them. Defeated, and still wincing in pain, she dragged herself towards the math building.


	2. Chapter 2

I limped up the marble staircase, feeling worn.

"I hate hate crimes…" I mumbled out loud. As soon as I realized the pun, I smiled to myself.

My math classroom was on the third floor of a southern building on main campus. I usually found myself taking the elevator, but today, I hardly felt like learning about inequalities, so I dragged my feet, listening to the air blowing out of the vents on the ceiling. Sigh. I heard my voice echo about the empty building, and marveled at how well sound travelled. I finally reached my floor, and trudged down the hallway to my classroom. I knew my dented, bleeding, bruised features would grab some attention, so I had hoped to miss class altogether. But, I found myself heading to class anyway, afraid that an authority on campus might spot me. Only a small crowd of people were aware that I was gay, and I wanted to keep it that way. I took regular beatings on an almost-daily basis. If that's all it took to keep my secret, by God I'd keep my mouth shut. I stood just outside the door of my classroom, listening to my teacher's obnoxious schoolgirl voice droning on behind the door.

"Now, as you can see, class, here we have an inequality…"

Sigh. More inequalities. Fantastic. I absolutely had to go to class, AND we were learning about something that I despised; it all came so easily to me, I often wondered to myself why I even bothered going. I moved to open the door, but stopped myself, thinking back to my haggard appearance. I wiped a stray trail of blood from the corner of my mouth, and attempted to cover my black eye and lacerated forehead with some loose strands of hair. If I could just make it to my seat in the front row, I'd be able to face away from the majority of the class, and they wouldn't notice. I took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

There was a momentary pause as the teacher turned her head from the blackboard to see who had just entered. She nodded, and turned back to her blackboard, the familiar screeching of the chalk returning noise to the room. I had begun to shuffle quickly to my seat, but froze in place as I made eye contact with Brittany. She took in my appearance, her demeanor changing from horror to anger. She stood up and rushed over to me, throwing herself around my neck. She sobbed uncontrollably into my shoulder, effectively confusing our peers. I softly stroked her hair, trying to comfort her.

"Shhh…it's okay babe, it's okay." I whispered, hoping my classmates hadn't made a connection yet.

"No! It's not okay!" she choked between sobs, pushing herself away from me. "It's not okay. People can't keep getting away with this, San! They just can't! I'm sick of hiding! I'm sick of having to meet in secret, being terrified of people seeing us holding hands!" she sobbed.

Okay, now people were starting to make a connection. Great. That's what I needed at the moment. But, I didn't want to upset her any further, so I just nodded, trying to agree with what she was saying.

"And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid." she whispered, her voice cracking.

"What do you.." I started. She cut me off mid-sentence, throwing herself onto me in an intimate, open-mouthed kiss. My mind clouded over, and I responded by wrapping my arms around her waist, pushing her body into mine. It felt like we were the only people in the world at that moment; we had never shared a kiss that was filled with such fond love. We weren't just kissing; we were making a statement of absolute oneness with each other. We finally broke apart, taking in the silence that had settled around the room. Our teacher was so shocked she stood petrified in the corner, her chalk falling from her hand and hitting the floor with a soft _thud_ that could be heard around the auditorium. Brittany blushed a deep red and giggled. I absolutely loved it when she giggled and blushed; I responded with a goofy, slanted smirk. I slid my hands off of her waist, and she skipped playfully to her backpack, swiping it from her desk. She continued skipping toward my desk, collecting my backpack as well. She pranced over toward me, simply handing my backpack to me. Once we had both hitched our backpacks around our shoulders, Brittany took my hand, and led me from the classroom, the blush still in her cheeks, and the goofy slant still on my face.


	3. Chapter 3

Brittany was still giggling as she pulled the latina out of the building, their fingers still tangled together. She spun around to face Santana, beaming. She took San's other hand in hers, and began to playfully swing their arms back and forth.

"Oh, San! I can't believe we're finally free!" Brittany announced excitedly. Santana beamed unconvincingly back at her, though she didn't seem to notice. She may not have realized it, but they were far from free. That gang of homophobes was still out there, and they would be back. Santana knew that even being outside of the building, they were in danger of being spotted. She glanced around suddenly, her panic-stricken eyes darting back and forth.

"San, what is with you? You're acting so strange! You haven't said one word since we left the classroom. Say something!" Brittany urged.

"I, uhh, love you?" Santana's voice inflected towards the end of the sentence, making it sound more like a question than a romantic gesture. Brittany tilted her head to the side, raising one eyebrow like she always did when she was attempting to figure something out. She remained in this position for several minutes, before appearing to have given up on the subject.

"I love you too!" Brittany responded enthusiastically. She jumped toward the latina, once again throwing her arms around Santana's neck. Santana pushed at the girl's waist, attempting to push her off, but Brittany misunderstood the gesture, and mashed their faces together in another mind-blowing kiss. _Damnit_ thought Santana. Why was Brittany so good at turning Santana's brain into a thick mush of muddled sex? Santana kissed back intensely, wrapping one free arm behind Brittany's back, and running the other absentmindedly up and down her thigh. Brittany began to feel the all-too-familiar throbbing between her thighs, and pulled Santana off the path. Santana shoved her roughly into the brick-wall side of the math building, the passion of their make-out session intensifying.

"Oh God, Santana…" Brittany mumbled into Santana's mouth. Santana snickered, dragging her lips across Brittany's cheek, and leaving a trail of kisses down the side of her neck to her pulse point.

"Tell me what you want, Brit" Santana whispered into her ear.

"M-more" was the only coherent word that Brittany could force out. Santana smiled at how turned on Brittany had become, and began trailing her hand up Brittany's side, gently stroking her right breast. She moved her other hand down Brittany's side, reaching the space between her legs. She began dragging her nails back and forth across the hem of Brittany's jeans. She groaned impatiently.

"San-n-n st-top teasing" Brittany stuttered incoherently. Santana grinned cheekily, and quickly unbuttoned Brittany's jeans, forcing her hand into her pants. She began rubbing gently, and built up pressure and intensity as she felt the blonde begin to buck and wriggle beneath her exploring hands. Santana could feel it; she was close now. She leaned in, and began gently sucking on Brittany's neck. This sent Brittany over the edge.

"San, I'm ccc…" was all she could choke out before her body began to twitch and writhe. Santana kept her pace, riding out Brittany's orgasm with her. Brittany's face contorted, a silent moan of ecstasy etched on her features. Santana felt Brittany finally relax beneath her, and they both slid down the wall, panting with exertion on the grass.

"Wow, San…that was amazing. I love you" Brittany whispered weakly.

"I love you too." Santana stated. _Brittany was totally right; that was AWESOME with feelings!_ Santana thought slyly. She beamed in accomplishment, placing a tender kiss on Brittany's still-quivering lips. Santana relished their moment together, despite her knowledge of the homophobe gang. She knew it wasn't over, but wasn't going to let that ruin their moment. Santana wrapped her arms around the dancer's toned abs, pulling her onto her own lap. They sat there for what seemed like hours, their forms pressed romantically together.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well," Santana whispered, "we'd better head home." The skies outside were beginning to gray, and the street lights had already begun turning on. There were several lights scattered across campus, but Santana liked playing it safe, especially with Brittany around. Brittany stirred, dismissively waving at the air, "five more minutes". Santana smiled and stood up, sweeping Brittany into her arms bridal style, both backpacks still shouldered. She began gently tip-toeing down the path, trying to give Brittany as gentle a ride as possible.

When they reached Santana's car, she clicked the button on her keys, the locks in the car making the familiar popping noise. Santana bent her knees, opening the passenger door with the hand that was still wrapped firmly around Brittany's knees. She carefully lowered the sleeping dancer into the car, quietly buckling the seat belt around Brittany's waist. Santana gazed at her, smiling at how peaceful she looked when she slept. She gently closed the door and made her way around the car to the driver's door. She popped it open, closing it behind her once she had positioned herself in her seat. She clicked the seatbelt across her waist as well, and pushed the key into the ignition.

**BRITTANY'S P.O.V**

She awoke in her own bedroom. Her comforter had been wrapped snuggly around her sides, making her body sweat from the heat. She threw her blanket off and sat up in bed. She rubbed groggily at her eyes before unzipping her hoody, and discarding it on the floor. Lord Tubbington lazily dragged his way across the floor, finally settling down on Brittany's hoodie. She glanced briefly at him, before swiping her phone off her night stand. No text messages. That's unusual; Santana typically texted her whenever she left Brittany without telling her. This struck Brittany as odd. She made her way to her closet, casually throwing some running shoes on. She wanted to see Santana, and she wanted to wake up from her prolonged nap. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at the time. _2:33 a.m._ _Wow, I slept all evening_ thought Brittany. _But, it's not that late. Santana will definitely still be up_. Santana was definitely a night owl; she stayed up into the early hours of the morning almost religiously. Brittany tip-toed down her front stairs and slipped quietly out, the door clicking shut behind her.

**SANTANA'S P.O.V**

_Hmm_ thought Santana. _I hope Brittany is sleeping well._ Even though everyone thought Santana was a heartless bitch (and, mind you she was, to most people), she seemed to have a soft spot for Brittany. It had always been this way; ever since they met when they were little. Brittany had always been her best friend, and there was never a day they hadn't been together. Santana could share everything with her, and never fear being judged. Their relationship had sort of just…happened. After being so close for so long, it just felt natural. Santana finally understood what it felt like to be in love. All of her other flings had meant nothing. She never understood what love felt like until she knew and understood her feelings for Brit. _Ahhh, Brit_ sighed Santana. She glanced at her phone; zero messages. _Well, I guess Brittany is still asleep_ thought Santana. She started browsing the internet, boredom washing over her.

**BRITTANY'S P.O.V**

Her heavy breathing echoed across the silent neighborhood. She had been running for a good mile and a half now. She was in athletic shape, but something about the cold night air always slowed her down. It nipped at her exposed skin, causing her teeth to chatter loudly. She distracted herself by listening to the pounding of her running shoes against the loose gravel. She could hear the sound of cars driving in the distance. Though she began to feel tired, Brittany also realized that she was only about three blocks from Santana's house, so she continued. The low hum of an engine behind her made her trot quickly to the side of the road in case the car didn't see her. Except the car sounded like it was slowing down. Brittany stopped her running and bent over, pretending to tie her shoe. She nonchalantly cocked her head to the side, glancing over her shoulder. A van was idling less than fifteen feet from where she was kneeling. She stood, horrific images running double-time through her mind. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, and her heart began racing. _Santana's house is only two blocks from here_ thought Brittany, slightly panicked. _Maybe I should call San…no, I can make it if I run for it_ thought Brittany, trying not to scare herself. She concentrated for a single moment before launching herself full-sprint towards Santana's street. She heard the van's engine roar to life, catching up to her faster than she could outrun it. She was almost there…just one more street…

**SANTANA'S P.O.V**

_Crap_ thought Santana. She had just lost her thirty-second round of Pac-Man. _I suck at this game_ she thought grudgingly. The loud buzzing of the doorbell caused Santana to jump. _Who could that be?_ thought Santana. She stood from her computer, beginning to head out her bedroom door. She quickly grabbed the golf club that sat by her door before proceeding. She had been down this path before; drug crazed patients of her father's stopping by in the late hours of the night. Protecting herself was never a bad option. She snaked quietly down the front stairs, glancing through the peephole. _Oh_ giggled Santana. _It's Brittany._ She set the golf club aside and opened the door.

"Hey sleepyhead!" chirped Santana. "Did you sleep well…" she began.

"Santana.." gasped Brittany.

"Wow Brit! Did you run all the way here? No wonder you are in such good shape!" joked Santana. "Are you okay? Got a cramp or something?"

There was something odd about Brittany's composure. She looked a little more pale than usual, and she was sweating profusely. Her chattering teeth and shaking body didn't go unobserved. Brittany smiled gently at Santana, before holding out her arms, as if asking for a hug. Santana smiled and stepped forward, hugging Brittany around the waist. That's when it began. Brittany cried out, and collapsed onto Santana. Santana crumpled under the weight, catching Brittany in her lap.

"Brittany? BRITTANY!" cried Santana. "What's wrong?"


	5. Chapter 5

"I…running…van…couldn't…" Brittany choked out between sharp gasps. Her chest was quickly rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. The moonlight reflected off of the glistening drops of sweat that covered her face and neck. She squirmed uncomfortably in Santana's arms, tightly shutting her eyes in pain.

"Oh god, Brit! What happened?" Santana stammered. Brittany opened her mouth to speak, but was only able to moan again, still unable to remain still. She slowly rolled herself over on Santana's lap, trying to indicate the source of her pain. Santana gasped and groaned in horror, closing her eyes as tears began to roll out. The back of Brittany's tank top was shredded to pieces, revealing countless holes that covered the majority of her backside. Each individual hole contained shiny silver pellets, and her entire back was bleeding profusely. Every time Brittany took a shuddering breath, it seemed to force more blood out of each hole.

"Shit. SHIT!" Santana yelled out loud.

"We need to get you to the hospital, Brit" she stated quickly, making a move to pick Brittany up.

Brittany groaned in protest, mumbling incoherently. Santana attempted to pick Brittany up, eliciting an ear piercing scream from her as her own hand made contact with raw flesh. She quickly set Brittany back down in her lap, apologizing repeatedly.

"Brit, I'm so sorry, but we need to get you to the hospital. You're losing a lot of blood.." said Santana, trying her best to hold back her sobbing.

"San…I'm sorry.." Brittany whispered.

"Shh…Brit, don't talk. Don't waste your energy." Brittany nodded slowly, trying to stay awake.

"I'm going to move you into my car now, Brit. It might hurt. Can you be brave for me?" said Santana shakily. Brittany nodded again, locking her jaw in an attempt to block out some of the pain.

"Okay. Here I go" said Santana, trying to insure that Brittany was prepared. She gently snaked one hand around the very top of Brittany's shoulders, cradling her head and neck with her forearm. She slipped her right arm under Brit's knees, gripping her jeans for support. Brittany closed her eyes even tighter, bearing her teeth in pain, but making no noise. Santana lifted Brittany carefully from her lap, and rushed to her car, trying not to drag out her pain. She quickly opened the unlocked door, and gently placed Brittany face down in the passenger seat, hoping that this position would be more comfortable. She slammed the door shut, and hurled herself over the hood of her car, clambering clumsily into her own car seat. She started the car, and raced from her house.

Only two minutes had passed, and Santana was more than half way to the hospital. She gratefully thought back to her dad, who had purchased this expensive sports car for her. She glanced over at Brittany, who hadn't moved since she set her in the car. She reached over, and gently nudged her.

"Britt?" said Santana, uncertain if she was even still conscious. When she received no response, she slammed on the accelerator, dodging through traffic. She reached the hospital one minute later, roughly parking the car in front of the ER. She hopped out of her seat, and rushed to the passenger door, throwing it open.

"Britt!" yelled Santana. She swiped Brittany from her seat, rushing into the ER.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" screamed Santana. Two ER staff rushed out from two large swinging doors, heading over towards Santana with a gurney.

"What happened?" said the first man quickly. The second man took Brittany from Santana, setting her on the gurney and beginning to strap her in.

Santana rushed the words out in one breath. "I don't know…she showed up at my house and looked pale then she collapsed and I saw her back and…and…and…" Santana began sobbing.

"Are you family?" the man asked.

"No…but I'm her…best friend" finished Santana.

"Can you contact her family?"

"Yes." replied Santana.

"We'll do our best." the man finished, before returning to Brittany's body on the gurney. The two men rushed her back through the double doors, disappearing from sight. Santana attempted to compose herself while pulling her phone from her pocket. She hit the familiar speed dial number, and listened to the phone ring.

"Santana? Why are you calling this early?" said a familiar musical voice, groggily.

"Mrs. Pierce? Please come to the hospital…quickly. I'm so sorry.." she began to sob again. Mrs. Pierce's voice turned serious.  
>"Shh. It's okay. Hang on. I'm on my way." she said quickly. Before Santana could reply, a dead tone sounded from the other end.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Santana paced the emergency room impatiently, waiting for the doctors to return and allow her to see Brittany. The sight of Brittany's back flashed grotesquely through her mind again and again. She shook her head roughly, trying to block out the images; they were beginning to make her feel nauseous. _Ugh. How long is this going to take?_ Santana thought angrily. Though deep down she was anxious about how Brittany's condition faired, she masked it with her typical bitch-face. She quickly lost her patience once again, and rushed to the receptionist's desk. She violently rapped the glass that surrounded the desk.

"Hey, when can I go back and see her?" Santana said, a little too nervously.

"M'am, you've asked me several times already, and the answer is still the same. When the doctors have finished her initial diagnosis, they will come out and speak with you. Has her mother arrived yet?"

"Not to be rude, _M'am_, but my that's my…best..friend in there" Santana pieced together quickly. "I need to see her. And her mom is on her way, but her dad is away on a business trip."

The receptionist glared at the word "M'am", but ignored the comment. "Just take a seat, and we will let you know."

Santana stomped over to a nearby chair, purposely knocking over a magazine stand on the way.

"Whoops" she shot back at the receptionist. The woman rolled her eyes, and returned to her work.

Santana had grabbed one of the magazines off of the floor, and began flipping vigorously through it, trying to distract herself. She felt warm tears forming around her eyes, and quickly wiped them away. The double doors swung open, and Santana jolted to her feet. She began to speak, but the doctor silenced her with a hand gesture.

"Your friend is okay. She's still in critical condition, but we have her stabilized for now. Has her mother arrived yet?"

"God. No her mom isn't here yet. Please, can I go back and see her." Santana asked desperately. The doctor seemed to hesitate momentarily, but recognized the fear in Santana's eyes.

"Sure, that's fine. She's conscious, but very weak." The doctor warned. Santana ran past him, yelling a quick "thank you" over her shoulder.

"Room 135!" the doctor yelled back.

Santana raced down the long, white hallways, quickly glancing at the room numbers. _129..133..135_. She delayed momentarily at the door, trying to mentally compose herself. When impatience once again got the best of her, she raced into the room.

"Santana.." said a raspy voice from the only bed in the room. She walked cautiously towards the bed, taking in her surroundings. Brittany's body had been set upright on a makeshift stand of pillows, so that she wouldn't be lying directly on her wounds. The previously bloody holes had been covered with several layers of bandage, and still seemed to be bleeding slightly though. There were multiple tubes going in and out of her body, and an IV drip had been attached to her arm. If it was possible, her face seemed even paler than it had on her porch. Brittany had shakily edged a hand outward, motioning for Santana to take it. She raced over, gently interlocking her fingers in Brittany's.

"San..I'm sorry.." she croaked weakly.

"Shhh..Brit save your energy. Don't apologize. This was not your fault. It's all my fault. I should have done something when the bullies began picking on me. I didn't know that they would ever come after you. And when I find them, I'm going to kill them." Santana growled through her teeth. Brittany attempted a reply, but was too weak. She simply gazed into Santana's eyes, hoping to convey a message. Santana understood immediately.

"I love you too" she said, trying to maintain her composure. She inched forward, delicately placing a kiss on Brittany's lips. A tear rolled out of Brittany's eyes, and Santana wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"I'm going to make this okay, Brit-Brit. It's going to be okay." Santana was trying to reassure herself more than Brittany. She was worried about Brit. Brittany looked weak and helpless in this state; absent of her typically strong and chipper personality. She felt tears form once again around her eyes, but could do nothing to stop them this time. She collapsed onto Brittany's bed, sobbing next to her face. Brittany reached a hand out to Santana's face, and began gently stroking her hair. She managed a _shh_ noise before she was once again drained of energy.

"B-brit, all I n-need is you. I love you m-more than ev-very mother in the w-world love their own children. I n-need you, Brit. And I can't lose you. P-please d-d-don't leave me" she finished, sobs choking her up. Brittany stroked her hair once more, but still felt drained and weak. Her hand dropped back down onto the bed, and she glanced at it disappointedly before returning her gaze to Santana. She and Santana remained in that locked gaze until Brittany fell asleep. Santana simply stared at the sleeping beauty, feeling sleep pull her into blackness.


	7. Chapter 7

**This is just filler, people! Sorry about the pauses between updates. School has been so busy!**

It had been two weeks since Brittany was admitted to the hospital, and the doctors that were responsible for her care had finally decided that she could go home. The general physician that had spent the most time with Brittany walked into her room.

"Brittany, it seems that your wounds are healing well, so you are free to go home later this afternoon. How does that sound?"

Brittany made no attempt to conceal her enthusiasm; her energy had improved one hundred fold, and her strength seemed to have returned. She bounced up and down in her bed, jostling the sleeping Santana that was still clinging to her stomach.

"Oh, thank you so much! I would love to go home. I really miss my room and Lord Tubbington" replied Brittany. The doctor silently decided that Brittany was talking about her pet cat.

"Well, fantastic. Let me have one of our interns come in and document your stats, then you are free to go." The doctor glanced happily at Santana before turning around and disappearing from sight. Santana finally awoke, stretching and yawning a "good morning". She scratched her head momentarily, and clicked her tongue before speaking.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Almost one o'clock" Brittany giggled. "We shouldn't have stayed up so late last night"

An evil grin stretched across Santana's face as she replied, "I sure didn't mind".

Brittany blushed a deep shade of red, and tried to conceal her giggling. Santana smirked in return, before throwing the covers off of them and hopping out of the bed.

"Would you like me to grab you some breakfast?" asked Santana.

"Could I maybe have some real food? This hospital food tastes awful" replied Brittany.

Santana laughed, "It has to be better than my cooking.."

"Oh, come on. I love you're cooking…" Brittany lied, unconvincingly.

Santana laughed once more before exiting the room. Brittany lay back on her pillows, thinking of the last two weeks. There had been several police officers in her room almost every single day, questioning her about the evening of the attack. She had almost no information to offer them, other than the van that she spotted following her. She heard the gunshot, and felt the blinding pain. Luckily, the van had departed quickly after firing. The pain was almost unbearable, and she had lain in the street for several minutes before she decided to continue to Santana's house. Though it was excruciating, she had to make it to her girlfriend. She knew Santana could help her. So she journeyed on, making it to Santana's house just before she passed out. After that, all she could remember was waking up in the hospital, a distraught Santana by her side. But, she was alive, and she was grateful for that. Santana had made it all better, just as she always had. Brittany smiled at the thought of her girlfriend's adoration for her.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the medical intern entering the room to write down her stats.

"How are you feeling, Brittany?" asked the intern, trying to fill the silence.

"Much better, thanks!" replied Brittany.

The intern continued scribbling notes on her clipboard for several minutes, before thanking Brittany and leaving the room. Brittany sat in silence, listening to the beeping of the machines around her. She shifted her shoulders curiously, testing the strength of her back. She was still incredibly sore, but it was nothing like the first few days. They had kept the bandage around her torso; the stitches had to be left in. The two times that they had attempted to remove the stitches had ended in bleeding and more bandages. The holes weren't closing very quickly, so they decided on a more solid stitching that could be removed in several weeks instead of several days. Brittany had just begun tugging at a strip of the bandage when Santana re-entered the room, carrying a bag with steam coming out the top.

"Are those bugging you babe?" asked Santana, genuinely concerned. She rushed in, setting the bag next to Brittany's bed before gently caressing her back.

"Oh, no. I was just lost in thought. Am I smelling egg-sausage sandwiches and…"

"Mocha Frappuchinos? Your favorite, of course!" Santana finished proudly. Brittany smiled in return, fondness filling her to her core. She seductively tugged on Santana's jacket, urging her to lean in for a kiss. Santana kissed her quickly, before bending over to collect their breakfast. Brittany laughed loudly.

"Hungry much?" she said.

"That, and we DEFINITELY can't have a repeat of last night right _now_.." Santana put emphasis on the word "now", as if suggesting that later would be just dandy.

"Oh, and why is that?" asked Brittany innocently.

"Well, to begin, you were making enough noise to wake an entire…" Santana had begun to explain, but Brittany had turned a deep red again, suddenly becoming intensely preoccupied with stirring her iced coffee. Santana laughed, kissing Brittany playfully. She hopped back onto the bed, snuggling next to her girlfriend. Brittany reached into the brown paper bag, retrieving their breakfast. Santana hardly had time to open her container before Brittany had inhaled half of her own.

"Jeez, slow down Brit!" said Santana. Brittany mumbled an impatient reply, spraying half-chewed eggs onto the bed. Brittany swallowed the alarming mouthful, laughing with Santana at the mess she had made. They stared lovingly into each other's eyes, before sharing another tender kiss.


End file.
